Page 78 of Five Days in July


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“Lenore.” My name comes out in a tortured groan, and I open my eyes just in time to see him coming. His free hand slaps against the glass wall, and his arm is a blur of motion. He gives himself a few more strokes and then moans in a low guttural way that tweaks a chord of pleasure in me. His breathing is so heavy I can hear it over the sounds of the water running.

Words have escaped me. I haven’t felt this much pleasure before, ever. All from the sound of his voice and the fuzzy outline of his body.

Part of me wants to get out of the tub and go to him, hating this barrier between us, and part of me is still caged by nerves. Wanting, but not yet confident enough in myself to step out of my comfort zone any further than I already have today.

I can see him move, scrubbing quickly and rushing through his shower routine. My mind is still foggy, and I’m getting lost in the moment, lulled by the heat of the bathroom. I don’t even bother finishing my bath.

Before I realize it, the water shuts off, and he opens the door to grab the towel from the hook. He dries quickly, and I see the whiteness of the towel flash through my half-open eyes as he wraps it around his waist.

Stepping out onto the soft rug, he turns toward the tub. His desire is still there in the way he watches me carefully, muscles tight. He looks like a predator that would love nothing more than to pounce.

“God, you’re beautiful.” His voice is filled with awe.

He’s staring at me and sees the sizeable pool of water that sloshed onto the floor.

With a smirk, he says, “Let me grab a towel and clean that up so you don’t slip.”

I wave at the corner. “There should be some in the laundry basket.”

He nods and starts rifling through the pile. After what we just did together, I shouldn’t be so embarrassed, but I realize too late that he’ll see my bra and underwear. Sitting up with a jolt, I watch as he straightens, a towel in one hand and one of my bras in the other. His fingers are moving over the delicate fabric, tracing the whorls of lace.

He looks from the bra to me and back again. “You had this one on yesterday?” He sounds curious, and his eyes are sparkling with suppressed lust.

I nod slowly.

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